


I Want You  (We Can Bring It On The Floor)

by AudeTheThird



Series: We've Never Danced Like This Before (We Don't Talk About It) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AND IT'S BUCKY BARNES, And Steve sorta confirms what he wants, BECAUSE MY PROBLEM HAS A NAME, Because I suck, Blow Job, Bucky's Drunk, Christmas, Dirty Talk, First Time, I feel like it's confirmed, I think we all know it just takes a bit of liquid courage, M/M, Selfconscious!Steve, Skinny!Steve, Stucky - Freeform, a little bit, but as much as its gonna get, but it may or may not be debateable, it's not REALLY non con, look - Freeform, not a lot, okay, sorta romantic, there is definately a healthy amount of 'are you sure', until like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudeTheThird/pseuds/AudeTheThird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nothin' wrong with you, Steve. If I thought you were inclined my way, I'd put my mouth on you every chance I got." He stood behind him, real close, both arms folded around his waist, struggling a little as he navigated the zip to the top of the fly. "Now. Any other problems, or are you good?"</p>
<p>Steve was going to hell and if Bucky moved his hand down just a little - </p>
<p>"Yeah. Good."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You  (We Can Bring It On The Floor)

When it first happened, like,  _really happened_  - ignoring the many morning hard-ons nursed against asses and drunken huggings and sloppy kisses against cheeks - Steve was unable to get his fly up and they were gonna be late for church, but he was already in his best slacks and he very well couldn't waste time trying to smooth out another pair.

Because Steve's legs were so skinny, the pants gaped wide on him, causing the crotch to sag unfortunately and display the thin cotton of his underwear beneath, which meant that no, he couldn't just adjust and hope for the best.

"Jesus, Steve, we're gonna get our knuckles stripped raw if we-" Bucky burst in, hand still on the handle, eyes flying to Steve's hands on his zipper. "The hell?"

"Don't curse." Steve muttered, hunching, throwing his hands up. "I can't get my zip up, and would ya look at this?  _Look at it_. I can't go to church with -  _my bits_ , hangin' out!" he flushed spectacularly, more so than he already was, and tried in vain to struggle the zipper up.

Bucky just huffed, and went over, knocking his hands away, carefully pinching the fabric and the zip.

"Lil' bit of elbow grease, pal." he said, tugging on the fly. But it didn't budge, so much as he nearly pulled Steve up by his pants. Steve smacked his hands away with a few choice words about the accidental man-handling, when Bucky got on his knees, fingers firmly on the zip. "Yeah, yeah, shut up and lemme see it properly. Maybe your trousers are stuck in it somehow?"

"Bucky." Steve shoved his hands again, face still red. "I can do my own zip up."

"I ain't gonna leave you here to miss church and go without you, pal. Sister Anne'll think you're dead or worse, you know how she gets about you." he tugged the tiny metal bit, tongue between his teeth, but it wouldn't be moved. "Cuz apparently I'm the goddamn devil, she thinks  _I_  get  _you_  into trouble."

"You do." Steve said, giving up, training his eyes skyward, ignoring the suggestive position. Clearly, Bucky hadn't noticed, so why should he?

"Bull and shit, friend." he grinned up at Steve's jaw, looking every inch a devil ready to take him on to hell. "You know you're the trouble maker. I'm just the idiot that follows you around."

"You're not an idiot." Steve said, looking down to scowl. His best pal, sittin' real pretty on his knees, his fly in hand, made his mouth go dry. He tried to take a step back, suggest he put on one of Bucky's sweaters, maybe that long vest, he knew Buck had somewhere, but Bucky yanked him back so hard he stumbled and sort of - bumped his front against the naughty grin.

"Easy, Rogers." he goaded, dragging his eyes down to the fly. "You'll give a man ideas, puttin' your dick on him like that."

"I did not!" he said hotly. " _You're_  the one who got on his knees all easy like!"

"That a problem?"

Bucky's fingers disappeared in the gap of his fly, and Steve went rigid all over, shoulders going up, and hands flying to Bucky's wrist. The tiny stroke of warm knuckles against his untouched cock had him all but go to water - and all because Bucky was fiddling with the strip of harsh fabric, trying to unstick it from the teeth of the zip.

"It ain't a problem with me, you know I don't care who you put your mouth on, Buck, but I know it ain't gonna be me, so could ya just-?" He pulled at Bucky's hand, protesting in half spluttered noises, when Bucky unstuck the material and got on his feet, using his grip on the littler guy's pants to spin him around.

"Nothin' wrong with you, Steve. If I thought you were inclined my way, I'd put my mouth on you every chance I got." He stood behind him, real close, both arms folded around his waist, struggling a little as he navigated the zip to the top of the fly. "Now." he said, taking in a big breath, his chest brushing against Steve's shoulders.

"Any other problems, or are you good?"

He was going to Hell, and if Bucky moved his hand down just a little, Steve was going to fucking rut against him like a bitch in heat and come in his shorts?

"Yeah. Good." Steve stepped out of his embrace, face hot, determinedly not looking at anything but his shaking hands reaching for his coat. "Thanks."

"Welcome." Bucky said, a touch too brightly.

Steve didn't want to think about Bucky adjusting the line of his cock in his pants, especially since they were walking to a house of worship.

* * *

They didn't talk about it for a week and a half.

* * *

Bucky had gone out dancing and drinking, fresh of the cuff of his last pay. When the future was brightest, when they had money to spare, when all the boys were bright and cheerful and ready for some fun.

Steve was feeling a cold coming on, and with his track record he found it was better for him to stay home and ride out the worst of it. Pushing his luck with his health would not come of any good, and he'd tested the theory more than enough times to know that for a fact.

So he begged off going out, wishing Bucky a swell time, and sat at home with his sketches and his book. Once he got tired, though, he was out like a light, passing out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

When he woke, it was late, the kind of late that was more morning than night. Bucky wasn't in the bed across from him, and Steve had a sneaking suspicion that maybe he'd be off sticking his dick in some pretty dame.

He blamed his sleepy brain on the image of a slick dick and balls disappearing into a woman. Of that woman being small and delicate, fragile and bony, with blonde hair and red painted nails digging into Bucky's ass as he fucked her.

He jolted when he realized who it belonged to, thought that maybe it was wrong, somehow, but his prick didn't exactly agree, swelling stiff and hot in the space of a minute and a half. With a half hearted groan, he slid his hands down his pants, giving his cock a firm squeeze, as if to reprimand it for reacting.

But strangely, it just felt good, and already more asleep than awake, on the precipice of dreams, he allowed himself to stroke his dick and rock himself on the bed, chewing on his lip, grunting when he got close enough to want the pleasure to go on and on forever.

He didn't want to finish too early - it was rare enough he got to jack off, let alone in his own bed, half asleep, the best state of near dreaming, where his brain was spinning out these crystal clear ideas for him.

By the time he was about ready to flood his sheets, he had worked up a sweat, and a flush, and was thinking all sorts of dirty things about Bucky that he suspected from all the dirty talk he heard around his friends.

They said he could get a girl to cream with just his fingers, get her so wet she'd drip down his hand on off his wrist. Steve knew the size of Bucky's fingers - the thick knuckles, the rough patches of callouses. Once, they said that he could flat out pick a dame up under her ass and straight up fuck her against a wall for as long as he needed; and Steve rationalized that yeah, Bucky probably could, because his arms had gotten real big since working the docks.

"Fuck." he squeezed his cockhead tight enough to hurt. " _Shit._ Nugh."

He was not going to come to the image of his best pal's chest, no siree, not today. He did almost lose it, though, thinking about Bucky's hands, how they'd dwarf his dick, as he got him off.

"Fuck- fuck - innng-" he lifted his whole lower half off the bed, heels digging into the mattress. He bit his lip hard, then came back down, dick throbbing hard, angry red and sloppy wet. He didn't come - he'd mess up his sheets - so he kicked his shorts the rest of the way off and got up, moving to the kitchen, going for a cloth, something, anything, to catch the mess.

He put his forehead to the wall, right hand on his dick, the other ready to catch the mess. Pre-dawn sun, grey filtered through the curtains, gave him enough light to see how he was slick all over, bare-assed in the middle of the lounge, fucking his fist to the thought of his best friend.

"Fuck-" he muttered, instinctively fucking with his hips. " _Yes_  - fuck-"

"You tell me not to curse all th' time-" came a snoozy drawl. "How come you get to do it?"

"Bucky?!" What blood there was in his face drained out, and he hid his still throbbing cock behind hand and cloth. "What- when-?"

Bucky was sitting on the arm of the chair, looking like he'd had a night and a half. Steve could smell him from where he stood - on the other side of their admittedly tiny apartment, now that he thought about it.

"I been here for ages." Bucky drawled, sliding down off the couch into a pool of loose limbs and fluttery lashes. "Listenin' to you." He opened his legs, reaching down to cup the hard line of his own package through his pants.

"Bucky - I -" he was going to  _die_. "I just - I didn't know you were even here-"

"Who do you think about?" he slurred, opening his eyes to stare at Steve. "Who gets you to swear like that?"

Steve inched toward his bedroom.

"Girls." he said, stupidly.

Bucky dug a heel into his crotch, fumbled with his fly and clumsily navigated his dick out of his pants - he wasn't wearing underwear to get in the way. He didn't take his eyes off Steve while he spat on his hand and put it to his cock head, stroking the hard flesh slowly.

"Tell me." he suggested, low.

"Buck - I gotta - I ain't wearin' any pants..."

"I seen your dick, Steve." Bucky reminded him. "Shit, I was so close to it on that sunday mornin' I could smell it."

Steve could feel his cock wilting as though chastised.

"Buck-"

"It smelled good." Bucky went on, eyes going to the cup of Steve's hands. "'N' I didn't want to say but - it smelt like, like somethin' I wanna -... I can smell your come from here, too. What did you think of, commin' like that?"

"I haven't-" Steve took a small shuffle to the bedroom. "Yet."

"Fuck." Bucky groaned. "You been jerkin' for ages..."

"I-..." he swallowed. "Bucky, you're drunk as a skunk, pal, I'm gonna put some pants on and then you're gonna sober up, okay?"

"Nah." he said, and licked his lips, hand circling his dick real slow up the top. "You gotta come, first, I interrupted, that's just - cruel. You been tuggin' for so long - it's not good for you, gives you blue balls."

Steve took another step to the room, which is when Bucky noticed, and struggled to his feet, one hand still braced firmly on his cock. He put a hand out, fell into the wall with a loud thump, one knee giving out under him. He looked like he was going to fall over, so Steve stepped forward and put a hand under his arm to try and get him on his feet, one hand still kept over his dick.

"Hey, thanks," Bucky drawled, half his body pressing onto Steve. He kissed his throat, making goosebumps explode down Steve's left side. "You're - such a good - you - I love you, pal, you're my best - my bestest pal..."

"You're so drunk." Steve muttered.

"Didn't even drink that much." Bucky slurred, but he promptly slid down onto his knees to evidence the contrary, one hand wrapped around the back of Steve's leg, face smooshed against his thigh. "Oh, mighta drunk a lil' bit, then..."

"Bucky." Steve's voice pitched weirdly and he cleared his throat before speaking again. "C'mon, get up, get into be- _head_!"

He just about swallowed his own tongue - because while Bucky was lolling uselessly on the floor, he'd yanked the cloth out of Steve's hand and sucked his dick into his mouth. He laughed around the mouthful - and yes, Steve had a rather sizable dick, considering the rest of him was so scrawny - then let it out with a wet noise, jerking his own prick harder, looking up with a cheeky grin.

"It tastes alright, you know," he said thickly, then eyed it and dove forward, sucking on the very tip. He hummed, bobbed his head a few times, leaned back, eyes big on Steve's face. "It's kinda like a dame's slick, but different. It's not bad. Lemme have another go-"

"Bucky." Steve very firmly put hands on his head. "You're  _drunk_."

"Your cock is so hard, fuck." Bucky reached up to touch it, but miscalculated and ended up grabbing a handful of thigh. He chortled, wrapped his arm around, squeezing Steve's ass, making him gasp and jolt forward.

"Fuck!" he said sharply, and Bucky aimed his grin upward.

"Do you like that?" he squeezed, nails barely digging into his skin.

"No." Steve said firmly, and Bucky's smile all but fell off his face, hand dropping to the floor to butt his head against Steve's hip. "Bucky, c'mon, you're really drunk and I can't lift you-"

"I'm sorry," he said to the floor, slinking down to put his head by Steve's foot. His ass was in the air, shoulders hunched, and although Steve couldn't see anything of him, he could see that his friend was truly regretful, bowed as though waiting for a beheading. "I'm real sorry, Steve, I didn't wanna hurt you or nothin' s'just - we both haven't - not for ages - and I just thought we could - you know. Help each other out."

"You what?" Steve blinked.

"I want  _you_." he said, muffled into the floorboards. "But you don't want  _me_."

Steve didn't know what to do. All he knew was, his cock was steadily re-inflating with every word Bucky said, the heady scent of come in the air, the needy whine in his voice, denoting himself as true. He studiously did not touch himself, just stared with his mouth open, shocked and scared that he was still dreaming, because if he was dreaming it was  _so good,_  but _what the hell kind of friend was he for wanting this_?

"I just-" Bucky pushed up on one hand, breathing hard. "We get together through everything, anyway, why's this any different? You know?"

Steve leaned back against the wall, and had precisely nothing to say about that.

"I -" Bucky went on, curling a fist around his cockhead. "I am sorry, if you - don't want me, but I - I wanted to help you feel good. And maybe get you to swear some. Cuz fuck if it ain't doin' somethin' for me."

Steve just watched, blinking, before sliding down the wall, legs going out, hand going to his dick.

"I think about girls." he said, softly. "With cunts wet enough they drip."

"Fuck." Bucky planted his face against the floor, rolling over to his side, onto his back, prick standing tall and proud when he spat on his hand for a second. "Yeah? Who gets 'em that wet?"

"Big, dark haired fellas. With big arms." he swallowed after the word, but the sound was drowned out by Bucky's groan. "I like to think they start off on the bed but he can pick her up and fuck her against a wall, get his mouth on her tits, fuck her like that. Suck on her as he goes."

Bucky wasn't even making noises, just growling.

"And if he gets tired, he puts her on the drawers." he eyed the drawers at the foot of Bucky's bed. "Flips her over so she's face down, looking out the window, so anyone out in the street can see them."

"Fucks into her from behind?" Bucky looked up, dazed, at Steve, who nodded quickly. "Yeah, I like that, yeah. Does he - does he play with her ass, too?"

Steve flushed all the way down his chest.

"He spits right on her asshole, plays with it, just the tip of his finger. She  _likes_  it. She begs him to put another finger in her ass, she likes it so much, but he doesn't, he's gonna come in her pussy, fill her up until -" he very nearly said 'he'. "- until  _she's_  dripping with him."

Bucky grunted loudly.

"She naked?"

"No. He doesn't even wait for her." he spat on his own hand, jerked his dick. "He doesn't even ask, he just does it, starts off by bending her over the bed and yanking her panties down and lickin' her out like that."

"Fuck.  _Shit_. Steve."

"She tries to whack him, tries to get him off, but he's a lot biggern' her, and he's stronger by miles. He fucks her with two fingers and licks her asshole until she's loose and stops struggling."

"Does she want it?" Bucky's eyes were very big. "She does want him, right, he's not gonna hurt her?"

"She's just got things to do," Steve said quickly. "She loves him. She wants him."

"Oh." he licked his lips. "That's better. Does he fuck her after she's ready for it?"

"No." Steve was breathing hard. "He puts her on her back on the bed and puts his cock in her mouth. Makes her suck it all the way in, makes her gag on it until she tells him where else she wants it."

Bucky wasn't able to form words, but the grunting made up for it. Steve went on.

"Flips up her dress and moves her how he wants her, sits up and drags her down onto his dick, fucks up into her like that. He - he hits her, too, smacks her ass until it's red as her nails because she - she's been bad, she did somethin' bad -"

"Steve - gonna - I'm gonna -"

"And when he comes, he does it all over her tits, makes her lick her own tits clean -"

Bucky stripes over his own clothes, a mimic of what Steve had just been saying. He wondered if Bucky would remember, in the morning, moving his hand a little faster. But Bucky had rolled onto his front - he was eyeing Steve's jackhammering fist, mouth open and wet.

"Quit lookin'." he mumbled. "Givin' me performance anxiety."

"Sorry." Bucky ducked his head, then very slowly crawled forward. Steve stopped jerking, ready to catch him if he fell, ready to put his rock-hard dick aside and put Bucky to bed with a glass of water.

But Bucky didn't fall, as much as remove Steve's hand away and bring his mouth down around him. Steve threw his head back - knocked it against the wall. Bucky looked up, wide eyed, tongue clumsily petting the top of his cock, before he pulled off.

"Okay?" he asked, swallowing.

"You're drunk," Steve panted. "Bucky, you're really drunk, and you can't decide anything right now-"

Bucky snorted, linked their fingers, dropped a warm kiss on the hinge of Steve's bony hip.

"Not a lot can make me change my mind, once I made it up. I learned it from you. Do you, or do you not mind, if I suck your prick?"

Steve groaned, muffled it into his hand.

"Don't ask me shit like that, Jesus fuck, Bucky."

"I like it when you swear." Bucky said, grinning, and kissed his hip again, trailing his mouth down to Steve's sack. He grunted, shifted, not sure if he was very uncomfortable or entirely turned on. He was pretty sure he was both. Bucky's tongue flickered out and did some very interesting things to his balls, making him shake out of his contemplative reprieve.

"Buck," he said, putting his free hand in the bigger man's hair. He grabbed a careful fistful, pulled him up.

"Tell me to stop." Bucky said simply. "Tell me to forget it."

Steve trembled. He'd been so close, for so long, and every hot rush of air against his dick was honestly enough to get him going, going, gone. The wet heat of Bucky's mouth had been clumsy - but incredible - and Steve felt, immense power and a rush of affection, having the man laid out flat on the floor, wanting to please him.

"Do you-" he choked. " _Want,_ to?"

"I want to make you feel good. If that means shuttin' up and goin' t' bed, I'll do that too." his eyes dragged down to the organ in front of him. "But, all the same, I wouldn't say no. Tastes alright.  _Feels_  pretty good. What do you say, Steve?"

And really, when Steve reflected on this moment, he realized that if it were anyone else - if it were a pretty, wasted dame, if it were some other fella, he would've been the first one to deflate and send them on their way. He could've been noble. He could've done the right thing.

Anyone else would've gotten over it, anyone else wouldn't have bothered, once they'd gotten their own. But anyone else wasn't Bucky, and anyone else wasn't slowly stroking his wrist with their thumb, waiting patiently for his deciding vote.

Bucky smiled, real warm and sweet.

"I'll swallow like a good boy and there won't be no mess." he promised.

"You're-" Steve exhaled, hard. "A stubborn fucking pain in the ass.  _Fine_."

"It don't gotta hurt, from what I understand." Bucky muttered, and before Steve could splutter a reply, pulled him back into his mouth, navigating with his tongue.

The noises - it was obscene. It wasn't Steve's first, so he was kind of experienced enough to know that Bucky clearly had no idea how to fit his own tongue and his prick down his throat, but it was the best, points for enthusiasm, for continuing to stroke his wrist and be overly caring.

Steve kept his hand buried in the thick mess of Bucky's hair, his other hand clamped over his own mouth to stop from making too much noise. He was whimpering, grunting, breathing hard and heavy. If he was lucky, he'd get away without an asthma attack - but he'd known from the beginning it wouldn't take him long.

"Buck, Buck,  _Buck_ ," he said, pulling his hair up. Bucky went where Steve put him, dazed, mouth still open. "Shit, I'm sorry, I'm - I'm just gonna-"

"Oh." Bucky said, cracked a shark-like grin (not as attractive as it usually was, when aimed up from behind Steve's throbbing cock), and dove back down, sucking him right up to the back of his tonsils.

"Buck- Bucky  _no_  -" he grunted, grabbed his hair in both hands. "Really, really, I'm gonna fuckin' come-"

Bucky resolutely stayed down, forcing him in a few inches more. He gagged, his throat working over to swallow around the intrusion, which is about when Steve's self control shot out of his prick and down his throat.

He groaned long, and loud, bending hard, as if his body was trying to weigh Bucky's head down there. Bucky didn't seem overly concerned, slipping back just a fraction so he wasn't constantly choking, and swallowed, just like he said he would.

He was still licking and swallowing when Steve had come back down to earth from whatever high he'd reached - over sensitive and twitchy, he made a noise he would never admit was a whimper.

"C'mon," he said, pulling weakly at his best guy's hair. "Jesus, I can't go again, would ya stop?"

Bucky hummed, pulled off, looking up at him with dribble and shine on his chin. Steve folded the cloth he'd originally intended to come into and wiped it away, gently swiping under his chin, where thick sticky strings of spit were swinging back onto Bucky's Adam's apple.

Bucky kissed the inside of his wrist.

"You good?" he said, hazy eyed.

"I feel -" he said, frowning slightly. "Like you're gonna regret that in the morning."

"No." Bucky said, surefire.

"And how do you know?"

"Because I never regret you." he said, and got up on his knees, leaning up with one hand on the wall above Steve's head.

Ignoring their mostly naked situation was surprisingly easy. Steve wondered when Bucky got so romantic.

"I don't know what this means," he said, slowly. "You deserve better, Buck, you deserve a pretty wife and babies."

"It don't gotta mean anything but makin' each other feel alright. Besides," even if the remark cut Steve to his core, he rationalized that it was much better than Bucky being angry or disgusted with him. "I got a pretty  _you_ , what do I need a dame and coupla kids for?"

Steve smacked his arm, and Bucky was just drunk enough that he fell back onto his ass for it.

* * *

For the next two days, they didn't talk about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Will be continued as one shots. Intermittently. When I get the chance. 
> 
> Probably gonna have something christmas themed in here eventually, stay tuned. ;)


End file.
